


Help Me Forget

by SVU_is_life_91



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: BDSM, Eventual Smut, F/M, Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3364979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SVU_is_life_91/pseuds/SVU_is_life_91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the difficult IA investigation into the death of William Lewis, and her split with Brian, Olivia needs a confidant. Mostly cannon, some OOC moments. Smut in Ch. 2. Slight BDSM. Twoshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help Me Forget

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Lewis's suicide. Olivia and Cassidy have broken up. Smut in chapter 2. Language.

Olivia shuffled into her apartment, making sure to lock and chain the front door behind her. She purposefully made her way into the small kitchen, filling a large glass with a generous measure of whiskey topped with coke. After taking a few gulps, feeling the alcohol burning her throat, she made her way to her couch and sat curled slightly against the padded arm. She sighed heavily to herself. Internal Affairs had finished their investigation, finally. She was officially in the clear with them. Continuing to sip her drink she finally allowed herself to feel.

The immense range of her emotions from the last few weeks was almost overwhelming. In the forefront was relief. It was finally over, she didn’t need to worry about Lewis anymore. Every noise in the dark couldn’t be him, every shadow was less of a threat. She felt like she could truly breathe for the first time since the moment she had seen him in her apartment. She finally felt safer. She would not be looking over her shoulder for him; fearing the day he came to finish his masterpiece, as he had called it. 

The next big emotion there, and she was loathe to admit it, was anger. It had been too easy. Too quick. Cleaner than that bastard deserved. Part of her wished he would have suffered immensely. She had wanted him to hurt, wanted his life utterly shattered. She also wished she would have been the one to end him months ago.

That last thought disgusted her. She couldn’t exactly blame herself for having it though. In lieu of dwelling on it any further she drained her glass and went to retrieve another. 

The apartment around her sat in silence, save for her slight movements. No radio or TV to interfere with her impending numbness. No sounds of Brian from another room. She let out a small, humorless laugh. The split had been amicable, she supposed. In reality she didn’t want to burden him anymore. She knew deep down that she would never be able to fully open up to him about what had happened, he would not be able to deal with it. 

Working on her second glass, bringing the bottle to the coffee table with her, she continued to sit and wait for her oblivion. Her, at this point, very welcome escape from the ghosts. She wanted to feel her head swim until sleep, hopefully dreamless, overtook her. This was her only real means of drowning her demons, silencing the echoes of the past, achieving some semblance of peace.

Outside, the sun was beginning its persistent descent towards the horizon. She did not have to go into work the following day, for that she was grateful. She was not, however, grateful for the isolation. Other than her therapist, she had actively avoided opening up to about her near week in hell, and her subsequent months in purgatory. She quickly drained the remaining liquid from the glass, pried herself off of her couch, and retreated to take a shower. 

She did not bother to close the door behind her as she entered the bathroom and began slipping off her shirt. Her hands ran across her stomach as she raised the hem over her head, feeling the still raised skin beneath her fingertips. She let it carelessly fall to the tile floor at her feet. Olivia unbuttoned her dress slacks and slowly worked them over her hips, ignoring even more jagged scars, and let the fabric pool at her feet. She quickly removed her undergarments and turned to the tub to begin running the water.

Before stepping under the spray she watched the steam begin to rise from the water. She cautiously stepped under the flow of the water, feeling the heat penetrate the tense muscles of her back, and closed the shower curtain behind her. She let the stream cascade down her body, being careful to block the beads of water from hitting the still tender flesh of her scars. Gently she began to work shampoo into her dark, shoulder length hair. She massaged the gel into her scalp, feeling the lather begin to form, and squeezed the suds into the ends of her hair. She leaned her head back to rinse her hair, making sure to avoid getting soap in her eyes.

After rinsing her hair, Olivia soaked a washcloth and squirted a liberal amount of her jasmine body wash into the fabric. She thoroughly ran the cloth over her arms, covering them in a light layer of scented foam. Without looking at herself, she moved the cloth over her chest, stomach., hips and down her legs. She washed her back, then her feet, and began to rinse the bubbles off of her body. She quickly washed her face. Wiping errant droplets from her lashes, she shut off the faucet and reached around the curtain for the towel on the towel bar.

Wrapping the fluffy cotton securely around herself, she stepped out of the shower and made her way to her bedroom. Selecting some lounge pants and a large t-shirt, she dried herself quickly and dressed. She rubbed the towel through her hair to stop it from dripping and pulled the wet locks into a messy bun, not bothering to brush it.

As she walked back towards her living room she began to feel the effects of the alcohol. A very pleasant fuzzy feeling had started around the edges of her consciousness. Deciding that it was not strong enough she poured herself another drink. Against her own volition one of her hands had settled on her stomach as she lounged on her couch again. Even through the layer of fabric she could feel the zigzag lines that ran across her torso. They had not faded much, if at all. Probably never would, the doctors had told her.

She hated them, hated how she had a clear memory of receiving every one of them. The long burn scar across her abdomen from a straightened hanger, the key shaped burn under her right breast, the small perfect circles that littered her entire upper body from the cherries of innumerable cigarettes. They haunted her. Plagued her. They were a constant reminder that it had not just been a nightmare, it had been real. She raised her glass to her lips, surprised to find it empty already. She rectified that problem at once, making sure to pour a generous amount of whiskey into the glass.

‘Beep beep,’ rang out across the silent room. Olivia reached for her phone, the source of the offending noise, and found a new message awaiting. She sighed, couldn’t the world spin without her for a while? Reluctantly she unlocked the screen to view the message.

Figured today was rough. Just getting out of the office. Want to grab a drink? The message read. Her eyes glanced to check who had sent the text, though she already knew.

Over the last few months Barba had always offered drinks after a hard day. Whether it had been a rough case, or grueling trial prep, they always found themselves in a bar afterwards to wind down. She was not sure that she was up to it tonight, however. But she really didn’t want tot sit in her lonely apartment and feel the walls closing in on her. She glanced at the clock on the wall, it was only eight o’clock.

Sounds good to me. McLarens in 40? she typed back.

Within twenty seconds she received the quick reply of I’ll be there.

As Olivia changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater she pondered the fact that she was meeting Barba, of all people. Not like it was the first time, though. It had started during her trail prep. After a particularly brutal day, which involved her laying bare every detail of her four day ordeal, Barba had offered drinks at a nearby bar as a way to unwind. This quickly became habit after every hearing about her case. She had been pleasantly surprised to find out that he could talk about a multitude of topics, though he usually allowed her to guide the flow of conversation. They always strayed to general, meaningless, discussions; movies, music, jokes. For some reason it was less daunting talking to him than it had been anyone else. He already knew what to avoid in conversation. If she was being honest, at this point the only person besides him who knew more about her was her shrink. It was relaxing in a way to know that she didn’t have to justify herself to him anymore.

She finished dressing, ran a brush through her damp hair, slipped on a pair of tennis shoes and began her walk to the familiar bar. It was quiet tonight; then again it was barely nine PM on a Thursday. She sat at the mostly empty bar and waited for him to get there. Within minutes he entered the building. She took in his appearance; slightly rumpled black suit, lilac dress shirt, and a royal blue tie which was hanging loosely around his neck, he looked as drained as she felt. He instantly spotted her and made his way over, taking the seat to her right.

“Hey Liv. How are you holding up?” He asked her, his voice slightly weary. 

She sighed. “I’m not really sure, to tell you the truth.”

He nodded as the bartender approached. “Double scotch on the rocks, and whatever she is having.” Rafael said in a kind, yet clipped, tone.

“Jack and coke. Tall, double, with a lime please.” 

The bartender, a pretty young redhead woman, nodded and began pouring. “Is this gonna be on a tab?”

Barba nodded in response, then turned to Olivia. “Jack? I didn’t know you drank whiskey.”

“I normally don’t. doesn’t mean I can’t change it up.” She replied, mocking his trademark smirk.

“I never said you couldn’t. It is just intriguing to me is all.” He quipped back with a cheeky wink.

Liv rolled her eyes at him as the bartender set down their respective drinks and walked away. She took a mouthful of her drink through her straw. It was bitter, had a harsh burn that seared the bake of the throat. She relished the feeling, any feeling was better than anger and disappointment at this point. She glanced at Rafael through her lashes. Watched as his long fingered hand carefully swirled the scotch in the glass, watched as he brought the alcohol to his lips… 

She mentally shook herself. What the actual fuck was she thinking? First of all, he was a friend. A very unlikely friend, but a friend who had been in her corner for the last several months. Someone who knew almost every dark secret, yet still conceded to spend time with her. Willingly none the less. Second of all, she would not be realistically able to act on her thoughts. She had been unable to take any physical steps since Lewis. Even so. She could not help but notice the way he attentively licked his lips after sipping his liquor.

Noting how quiet Liv had become, Rafael flicked his eyes in her direction. Feeling his gaze upon her she looked at his face.

“What?”

“You’re quiet today.” He stated.

“It hasn’t been one of my best.” She said bitterly.

“I know. You can talk to me you know. I do know how to listen.”

She had to chuckle at that. “Who knew?”

“I’m serious.” The intense look in his eyes left no doubt in his her mind.

“I know. And I appreciate it, but not here.” She mumbled, draining her drink.

He simply nodded, continuing to sip his nearly empty drink. With two fingers, he waived the bartender over and requested the tab. He paid without question, leaving a generous tip and draining the remaining amber liquid from the glass.

Wordlessly, they both rose to their feet and walked in step towards the door. He opened it, allowing her to walk out ahead of her. She flashed him a thankful smile and he matched her stride a half step behind her.

Over the past few months of their friendship it had not become uncommon to hold more in depth discussions at her apartment. At first it had been strange, borderline awkward, truth be told. But now it felt natural. Much like their sharp banter, frankness, and nonjudgmental openness.

The walk was quiet in the brisk night, the streets beginning to slow as the hour reached ten. Soon they reached the entrance to her complex and she unlocked the door. He followed her into the lobby and allowed her to lead him to her third floor apartment. After entering they both swiftly toed off their shoes in the front hall.

“Another drink?” She asked him as she made her way to the kitchen.

“Please.” He replied in earnest, slipping off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his vest.

Within moments she returned to find him sitting on the couch, legs crossed casually. She handed him the short glass tumbler, filled with his traditional scotch on the rocks. Her glass was filled with a lighter amber liquid. As she passed in front of him to sit on his left he caught a whiff. Whiskey. A lot more of a pour than a double. He sighed lightly.

“What is it?” She lightly snapped, no malice in her voice.

“Just wondering what’s on your mind.” He replied honestly.

She hesitated. She had to be sure of something first. “No matter what, whatever is said here stays here, right?”

He cocked his head slightly. “Of course. Whatever you tell me isn’t my business to repeat. To anyone.”

Her slight nod was barely perceptible. “It’s just… I’m not sure where to go from here. I thought, with him gone, everything could go back to normal. I know it doesn’t make any sense.”

“I understand the thought.”

“It’s just frustrating. I feel like instead of helping, his suicide just made it all worse.” She bit her lip. She did not want to admit her next thought; though she knew he of all people wouldn’t hold it against her. Finally, after a fortifying mouthful of liquor, she blurted, “I wish I would have killed him myself.”

Rafael pondered this. After a moment, in which he sipped his drink, he looked at her deadpan and replied, “I would have flipped you for the honor.”

His phrase, combined with the look he gave her, was too much. Without being able to help it, she burst out laughing. The sound was almost entirely foreign to her own ears. It took several long moments before she was able to stop. Finally, with a slight hiccup, she was reduced to a controlled chuckle.

Throwing his own sarcastic wit back at him she said fiercely, “Not a chance on that Counselor.”

After a beat, he shrugged and said “You’re right. It should have been your finger on the trigger.”

Olivia’s brain felt very fuzzy and pleasantly and very numb. She caught herself watching the way he moved his hands as he talked. Her gaze followed the line of his fingers. She blushed at the next thought. For some strange reason the word that struck her about his hands, seemingly flashing in neon lights, was elegant. Long tapered fingers ending in neatly manicured nails. They looked like they would be soft, smooth. She flushed deeper.

“Liv? Still with me?” He asked, voice slightly raised, but not in anger.

“What? Sorry, zoned out for a minute there.” 

“It happens. I was saying that I know how you feel. Him ending it himself is just… it’s more than he deserved. Way less than you deserved.”

“Do you think we can talk about something else? Something lighter?” She quietly asked.

Rafael noticed the subtle shut down. “Sure.”

They both worked on their drinks, talking about random nonsense. Sports, the weather, a few new movies of interest. Neither had work to attend to tomorrow, so they settled into each others company easily. He declined the offer of another drink politely, he disliked the feeling of being drunk. Not wanting him to notice anything unusual, she started some coffee. That he did partake in, without hesitation. It was not uncommon for the duo to talk about anything and everything until the sun rose again, and coffee was their shared vice.

At some point during a lull in conversation, and Olivia was not sure when it had happened exactly, they wound up shoulder to shoulder. She noticed, with a suppressed start, that her right leg had found itself casually draped across his left. She was shocked at the safety she felt, and the distinct unawareness of it all. If he thought there was anything unusual about their current seating arrangement he let nothing on. Her head felt almost completely clear, she knew the alcohol had worn off. And if her buzz had, so had his.

She noticed, possible for the first time, the way he smelled. The scent, distinctly sandalwood with a hint of something she couldn’t place, was pleasant. Strong, and yet subtle. She instantly decided that she liked the aroma. She realized the shift in her thoughts, but was unwilling to stop them. Almost of its own accord, Olivia’s right arm raised to rest across Rafael’s shoulders, her head lolling against his left clavicle. He made no protest to the uncharacteristic action. 

Out of the corner of her eye, over the rim of the coffee cup she was abut to drink from, she noticed a faint movement of his left hand. She waited, breath held, to see what would happen next. Slowly, tentatively, his hand came to rest on her right knee, the touch feather light, but lingering. He cautiously applied increasingly more pressure until the full weight of his hand rest against her denim clad kneecap. She could feel the head radiating from his palm.

Olivia raised her head up, looking him full in the face. Her eyes flickered up to find his jade green eyes already on her.

“Something I can help you with, Sergeant?” He lightly quipped. However, she had gotten to know him and his face gave his true thoughts away.

She could easily see the usual cockiness, humor, and fox like cunning. But there was something else, something she had never seen there before; lust. She was sure she was imagining it. Yet she felt herself blushing under the intensity of his gaze, and not entirely from embarrassment. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She answered with a slight raise of an eyebrow.

“I would, actually.” He said.

There was no getting around it now. His voice now carried a smoky, husky quality that sent a shiver down her spine and caused goose bumps to rise on her skin. She watched as he intently wet his lips; slowly, sensuously, drawing her eye. Liv could feel the flush creeping down to her chest, she could not understand how he suddenly had such an effect on her. Mirroring his motion, she used the tip of her tongue to wet her own lips, now it was Rafael’s turn to blush. 

Slowly, but with purpose, he used his right hand to cup her cheek, drawing her face towards his. Her breath caught in her throat. Painfully slowly, and much too lightly for her liking, his lips came to rest on hers. He pulled back quickly, catching her eye again. A faint smile was forming on her lips, but it faded when she saw the look of uncertainty in his intense stare.

“I’m so sorry Liv. I shouldn’t have done that.” He began.

“Rafael, I’m not upset. That was nice. I don’t regret it, I just ask a favor.” She said, cutting off his train of thought.

“What is that?” He looked worried.

“Please don’t treat me like I’m about to break. I want to feel something besides anger again. I trust you, and I want this, ok?” She rushed out.

“Just promise that if I cross a line you will tell me, it wont upset or offend me, I just… I don’t want to do anything to hurt you.” He said. There was a fierce look of determination and protection in his eyes.

“Promise. Now where were we counselor?” She said with a wicked smile.

Rafael smiled and let out a low chuckle. She saw a darkening in the color of his eyes, and there was no more denying his lust. He once again closed the distance between them. Then his lips were on hers again; warm, firm, yet soft. And insistent. She did not hesitate, but opened her mouth to allow him to deepen the kiss.

And he did. The sharp tongue that he often used to cut a perp down to size was now warm and slick against her own. He took control so the kiss easily, expertly taking her bottom lip between his teeth and biting, cautious not to break the delicate skin. She gasped at the sensation, drawing a low groan from the depths of his throat. The sound was so uncharacteristic for him, and it shot right through her. 

His left hand ran up her right leg, right hand tangled in her shoulder length hair. She brought her left hand up to cup his cheek, feeling the soft skin with a hint of five o’clock shadow. She slid her hand further up, brushing his ear, and coming to rest in his surprisingly soft hair. Finally succumbing to their need for oxygen, they hesitantly broke the kiss, making sure to keep their faces close.

Liv let her hand trail down his face, to his neck, and come to rest on his chest, feeling the muscles under the dress shirt. His hand on her leg had slid up to her hip, gripping it lightly. His thumb was under her sweater, stroking just beneath the scar on her hip bone. His hand was soft, as she thought it would be, and very warm. It seemed to leave a trail of fire on her flesh. The sensation was insanely pleasant. Against her will a small moan escaped from her lips.

A satisfied smile spread across Rafael’s face at the noise. She continued ghosting her hand over his torso, and experimentally ran her hand over the top of his thigh. It did not escape her notice that the front of his slacks seemed to have tightened. She wanted to feel his skin under her fingertips. She brought her touch back up his abdomen, lightly gripping his tie and pulling him further towards her. As her lips melded to his again she watched his eyes flutter shut, losing himself in the moment, the feel of her.

In the blink of an eye, Barba’s arms had wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him. She was now straddling his lap, his hands on her back, her legs working to encircle his hips. Their kiss became more heated by the second; his tongue exploring every inch of her mouth, hers mirroring it with equal passion. He slowly pulled his lips off of hers, moving to gently kiss her neck at the collar of her sweater. 

A light nip at the juncture of her neck and shoulder made her legs tighten around him. She felt her head fall back at the sensation. Their chests were now touching, and Olivia could feel his arousal against her thigh. Spurred on by her reaction, he continued to use his mouth to explore every inch of her exposed neck that he could reach. As he ran his lips up to a spot behind her ear she wound her hands into his hair, her nails delicately biting into his scalp and drawing an almost animalistic growl from him. He brought his teeth together, biting her on the sensitive skin. Her fingers tightened, and she let out a low hiss, rocking against him. He immediately stopped to make sure he hadn’t broken the skin inadvertently. 

“I’m sorry. Got a little carried away.” He explained, finding the area very red, but the skin intact.

“No, it’s ok.” She was slightly breathless, he could feel her breasts against him as she tried to even her breathing.

He looked up into her dark brown eyes, he felt like she was holding something back. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing. Just…” She hesitated. They had never spoken about anything like this before and she was not sure how he would react. Hell, she didn’t understand it fully herself.

“You can tell me. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, gesturing to their current seating arraignment, “and you’re not going to get any judgment here.” He finished, both surprised and pleased that she remained straddling his lap.

“It’s just been awhile. I haven’t done anything like this since…” She trailed off.

He easily read between the lines. “We don’t have to, you know. It’s your choice.”

She smiled at the sincerity of his voice. “I do want this. With you. It feels good, right.” She paused. “You are going to think I am completely crazy.”

“Trust me Liv,” he began while cupping her cheek tenderly, “you could not possibly tell me anything crazier than I have ever heard. I won’t think any differently of you.” He brushed his mouth against hers in a quick, chaste kiss.

She closed her eyes at the touch. She could not help but believe him, he had never given her reason not too. And he was a very nonjudgmental person. Still she hesitated. “It’s just that before all of… this… I had, um, certain things that I enjoyed.” She paused, blushing crimson. It wasn’t every day she spoke to people about this. “And I’m not sure if I would anymore.” She finished, biting her lip and averting her gaze.

“What do you mean?” He asked in a voice barely above a whisper, his curiosity evident, but respectful.

She kept her eyes off of him, and mumbled, “Um… before everything that happened I didn’t really do ‘gentle.’ If you know what I mean.”

Rafael looked at her as her words sank in, that had not been at all what he had been expecting. Although he really was not sure what he had been. His mind raced, trying to decipher what she meant. It only took a brief moment to collect his thoughts enough to ask “Do you want to tell me what you liked?”

“Well, it is not what people usually expect from me.” She said, continuing to avoid his eye. Her embarrassment was palpable.

“Reality is always better than expectations.” He said, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I have things about myself that would surprise you too.”

For the first time in several minutes they locked eyes. She looked slightly more relaxed now. “Well, several years ago a man I was seeing was into some rough stuff. I found out that I liked quite a bit of it. Now, I’m just not sure how I would handle it.”

He let her words wash over him, mind racing to decode the information. Then an idea clicked and in a very direct manner he asked, “Were you in the lifestyle?”

“Only privately.” She replied, taken aback at his choice of words. That had to mean, “Are you?”

“Yes, but like you, only privately. A girlfriend in college liked BDSM and we learned more about it together.” He said. “Why would you think I would find that crazy?”

“I didn’t know you knew anything about it.” She replied honestly. She had certainly not expected the night to wind up here, perched on Barba’s lap, and talking about kinks. “I normally don’t mention it because of the huge stigma.”

“Trust me, I know what you mean.” He paused, then implored, “Out of curiosity; are you a Dom or a Sub?”

“You wouldn’t believe it, but mostly a Sub. But I have been know to switch on occasion.” She told him, the tension and embarrassment all but forgotten. “So what about you?” She questioned, making to attempt to hide her intrigue.

“I’ll let you take a guess.” He said, with a hint of good natured sarcasm.

She squinted her eyes in an expression of deep thought. “Hmm… A control freak like you? I’m putting my money down on Dom.”

“Your detective skill amaze me.” He said dryly. “But yes. Do you want to get back into it?” He asked, genuinely interested in her response.

“I do, I’m just nervous.” Came her honest reply.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She said, without hesitation. “I know you would never hurt me.”

Her words made his heart swell. “We can try, if you want. You know that it’s you that has the power. You say the word and it stops there.”

“I know. It is one of those things where I want to, but I don’t even know my own limits anymore. But you have to find them somehow right.” She said with a light laugh.

“That’s true. Any definite hard limits?” He needed to know that they were on the same page.

“No knives or blood.”

“Fair enough, I’m not personally a big fan either.” He replied, relieved that at least their dislikes were the same. “Requests?”

“Don’t treat me like a china doll. If I’m going to move forward I need to push myself.”

“I am trusting you to use a safe word if it gets to be too much. I’ll go a little slow, hold back a little. I tend to get pretty intense.” He said. “What do you normally use as a safe word?”

“I usually use the traffic light system. You know; red means stop, green means go, yellow means slow down. But I don’t want you to hold back Rafael. I need this.” She said, a determined look in her coffee colored eyes.

“Ok, but I want to ease into it a bit. Fair enough?” He asked her, compromising. “I don’t want to rush and push too far too fast.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” She answered honestly. It did make sense, after all. The last thing she needed was to jump in head first and do more harm than good.

“Well, in that case, we are going to the bedroom.” He said. He was sure to not say the words harshly, but his tone left no room for arguments. 

She flashed a smile at him, one bigger than he had seen since before the Beast. Tonight was going to be a good night, and it was just getting started.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all. It has been several years since I have written or posted any fics. I just had this idea and had to run with it. Feedback is more than welcome. Chapter 2 is in progress, and I hope to have it uploaded in a week or 2. Thanks for reading!


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